Isn’t that gorgeous? That’s a potato flower and my trash can potatoes are covered in them. The plants have grown so much that the dirt reached the top of the can a couple of weeks ago. I have been waiting to see how long it will take from the time it reaches the top to the time the plants die and I get to harvest the taters. I stopped adding dirt on June 20th, so that makes today the 18th day of growth. The plants are are still going strong and my trash can looks like the world’s largest and most awkward potted plant. I love the reaction when people come over. It’s always the same question with the same odd look and slightly disturbed tone: “What do you have growing in your trash can?” Look at this! I’d ask too.

I got to harvest my first three Roma tomatoes this weekend. They are tiny, and I made a mistake, so they don’t look very appetizing.

That lovely little split is on all three of them. The other two wouldn’t allow me to take a picture of their cracks. They were so ashamed! I’m so sorry, little tomatoes, it’s me not you. Really, it is! We went through a couple of weeks of no rain up here in Tenn-tucky and I watered often. I did not, however, water deeply enough. Then, we went through a week of Heaven unleashed! The rain was incredible. My little maters do what maters do and sucked up all that water and grew quickly. But, because I had not watered deeply enough during the dry weeks, the insides grew faster than the outsides and they split. If I start watering more deeply during the dry spells, this should keep the growth even and all of the other green tomatoes should be fine. You can eat a split tomato, but they aren’t pretty and they won’t last more than a day or so.

My potatoes are teenagers! They’re almost to the top of my garbage can and almost done growing, or are they? It’s hard to say what they’re doing down there under the dirt; I can’t see into that secret world. I have given them a comfortable bed to grow in, nurtured them with water and food, and I have given them room to grow. I’ve done everything I can possibly do to help them turn out well. Pretty soon the dirt will reach the top, and other than occasional help with water and making sure they are in the right spot on the patio, my job will be done. I can only watch and wait to see what they do with all they’ve been given. It’s nerve wracking. I have put a lot of effort, love and hope into growing these potatoes, but in the end, I get no real say in how they turn out. I want them to do well, produce much and maybe make a nice hash.

Ok, so that’s where the metaphor falls apart. I really don’t want my kid to make a nice hash, but you can see where I’m going with this. My youngest is four. We’re still in the posting-on-Facebook-every-cute-thing-my-kid-says phase with him. The eldest is 15 and in the same phase as my potatoes. In three short years, he graduates high school. Wow! That blows my mind. I want him to go to college. I want him to have a good career. I want him to have a happy life. I want so much for him and I have put a lot of love, effort and hope towards that end. The next step, however, is completely up to him. The only thing I get to do is sit back, watch and give the occasional needed input.

I’ve heard it said that the hardest part of raising children is that if you’re doing it right, you’re raising them not to need you any more. He’ll always need me in his life, I hope, for the love I give him and for that precious mother-son relationship. He might even come to me for advice every now and then. But, if I’ve done my job right, he won’t need me making his decisions and directing all his paths. I sure hope I’ve done my job right.

This is a short essay I wrote about my first, and only, attempt at sailing.

Facing Down the Giant

I saw The Perfect Storm. I know what happens to students on a sailboat. I don’t know why I ever even watched that movie considering my enormous fear of sailboats, but I do know why I tried getting onto a sailboat full of students. I am a student and it was required. If you want an “A” in a course, you have to fulfill all of the requirements. The professor told us about this one on the first day of class. He suggested that if it was a problem for us, then we should drop the class. This was not an option for me because of the source of my funding, so like or not I was in this and I had to face it.

Fear is not a word many of those who know me often associate with me, unless of course we are talking about cockroaches and then I am a screaming ball of pansy. That is well known and well laughed at, but a sailboat? C’mon, not April! She’s does all kinds of water sports, hikes, goes hunting for wild hogs – a total tomboy. Why should she be afraid of a boat? Well, she is and I absolutely hate it. I love the idea of coursing through the ocean with the wind in my hair, but more than that, I abhor the idea of anything having control of me. I would face this.

The morning of the sail, I attached my motion sickness patch to a hairless piece of skin behind my ear just like the directions told me. I checked over my list of things to bring and made sure I had everything the boat captain had listed. One last thing to do before I left the house. Nope, not pray. I had been doing that for days. I playfully changed my Facebook status to “April is busy facing down a giant” and then I left to face my Goliath – the mighty sailboat.

My eyes widened when I walked up to the boat. Goliath didn’t look so big when I saw him. This was supposed to sleep seven? Really? Seven really close friends maybe, but not seven strangers. Trying not to think about it, I sucked in my breath, swallowed my fear and climbed aboard. At first it was great, actually. The captain let me steer the boat out of the harbor. We were using the engine just then and it felt a lot like being on my grandfather’s bass boat on the lake. Ah, but this was not a bass boat. This was a sailboat and a sailboat’s gotta sail. The captain asked me to hold the boat steady while he raised the sails. With a mighty wap WAP the sails filled with the wind, the engine was cut and everything changed. We were no longer cutting through the waves, we were riding them. Up and down, up and down. Sideways. Did I mention we were riding them sideways? Apparently, that is the natural motion of a sailboat. It felt anything but natural to me. I gave up control of the wheel and swallowed more of my fear.

Funny thing about fear. You can only swallow so much of it and, it seems, I had swallowed more than my fair share that morning. I felt it churning in my stomach, rising in my throat and soon my technicolor fear was poured out into the ocean, on the side of the boat, on a couple of lifejackets. On my foot. I was no longer in control of the boat or myself. I felt my insides begin to tremble and push outward into a full body, visible shake. After a brief conversation with the captain, he graciously agreed to bring me ashore. I couldn’t do it. Goliath had won.

As we made our way back to shore, I kept scanning the horizon for signs that we were getting near the end of this terrible journey; “glimpses that would make me less forlorn.” It was a forty minute ride back, giving me plenty of time to alternate between puking, shaking, watching and thinking. I thought about David and Goliath; how a tiny little boy could stare down his giant, and yet, I couldn’t face mine. I felt so dejected. But, then I began to think of David’s brothers. He had seven brothers come before that giant. Seven. Not one of them was able to defeat him. Why David and why not them? The only logical conclusion I could come to is that they were not meant to. It wasn’t their giant to defeat. This is where I am. I love the idea of sailing across the ocean, but I am not meant for the reality of it. I looked that giant in the eye and walked away. This was not my giant to defeat.

Ok, so I’m going to have to say something here that I am particularly not fond of saying. Hold on to your knickers, folks! I was wrong. Yes, when I comfortably cast aspersions on my furry, four legged neighbor, I cast them on the wrong rodent. We came home from a few errands in the early evening yesterday to find the real culprit crouching in my garden. He quickly scampered his little thieving butt right under the fence and out of the yard. I had no idea that we had these kinds of neighbors or that one could fit so easily under our gate, and thus, I wrongly accused the neighbor that I knew could hop over it.

Now, the garden grabber moved way too swiftly to catch on camera; however, we did make use of our resident sketch artist and 15-year-old son, Bryan, to create a portrait of the culprit. My husband got the best look at the fuzzy suspect and sat down with the sketch artist to come up with this:

Yes, it was the bunny. That foul, little garden thief of old who stole from Mr. McGregor and many other food growers throughout the centuries. I am one of many, and now I have this:

a garden fence. Add that to the fishing line, the ribbon, the pinwheels, and my scare-thing, and my garden is a veritable fortress against garden thievery! I’m just hoping it’s not the Garden Alamo – worthy, but doomed. Wish me luck!

Isn’t that pretty? My zucchini plants are huge and they have these beautiful flowers all over them. I just love squash flowers. I didn’t know they had such beautiful flowers until I accidentally grew a pumpkin patch. One year, we threw all of the pumpkin seeds from our jack o’lantern into the front flower bed. That flower bed was a bird magnet, so I figured they’d all get eaten up. The following spring, some nasty little caterpillar attacked the bushes and they had to be all torn out. Not having the cash to dole out for new bushes, I planted some seasonal flowers instead. When they died off in the fall, suddenly a whole patch of pumpkin plants grew in. It was so cool! We never got pumpkins out of it because of a freak early freeze, but the flowers were stunning!

The zucchini flowers are neat. They open up in the morning and close up in the evening. I’m not sure how long before they die off into actual zucchini. Good thing I’m mad for the little green squash or I would seriously mourn the loss of those flowers!

My strawberries, on the other hand, my poor little strawberries… We went camping last weekend in Fort Mountain State Park, GA, and while we were gone, something ran amuck in my berries! I don’t know if it was a bird, but I’m thinking maybe a squirrel made the breakthrough because the fishing line was snapped. Birds hate fishing line, but have you ever watched squirrels break through all those “squirrel proof” bird feeders? Squirrels are a lot like honey badger, squirrel don’t care! I may be casting aspersions on my little furry-tailed rodent neighbors, but I feel pretty comfortable in my assessment.

Guess what? The tomato rallied! I’m so glad I didn’t give up on the little guy. I have cute jelly bean shaped Roma tomatoes starting to grow.

The plant still isn’t very large, but I’m growing actual maters. Yay me!

I added dirt to the trash can potatoes before we left to go camping and in the three short days we were gone, they grew so much I had to add more!

It’s really neat how you keep adding dirt, and the plants keep adding potatoes. But, it’s also kind of odd too. You don’t just cover up stalk, you have to cover up the leaves and branches that are lower down too. It makes me feel kind of like the bad dude in a Hitchcock film. Seriously, I’m burying something alive in order to make it grow into what I want it to be. A little creepy! The plant responds very quickly and starts growing back up out of the dirt. I’m trying to decide if it’s happily growing upward or trying to escape a premature grave!

And this is why I write. Can you imagine if I kept all that craziness locked up in my skull? Screaming potato plant leaves struggling to escape the suffocating dirt? Nope, it’s much better to let it out in a good, entertaining story!

The strawberry! I walked out to check on my garden this morning and scared the poo out of several feathered friends feasting on my strawberries! Doggone birds really did a number on my two little plants. I’m not too worried about the strawberries because I was never going to get enough fruit to do much with out of my two little plants. Those were just for my strawberry loving four-year-old to enjoy growing. We’ll go picking at a local farm to fill his berry needs. But, my zucchini have grown by leaps and bounds and I will pluck a bird who touches my zucchini!

Simon and I took action! We looked up on the Old Farmer’s Almanac for ideas. Who knows more about gardening than an old farmer? Umm, nobody! The old farmer said to string some fishing line around the bed and to put up stuff like balloons to scare them away. Ok, fishing line – check!

Scary stuff? Hmm… I’m out of balloons and a storm is coming, so we’re staying home this morning. How about a scarecrow? I figured we could dress up an old stuffed animal and asked Simon for one he didn’t want. He told me he had a scary stuffed animal and brought me this thing.

Yeah, that is a strange one! He got that at Busch Gardens and I’ve always thought it was pretty weird. We attached it to an old spring-loaded drapery rod and now it’s out there just a-bobbin and a-weavin away, waving it’s crazy, rubber hair all in the breeze! And so far, so good. I watched one little birdie bump into to the wire, fall back and curse like a sailor before he flew away. I think he might of even flipped me off! Then another little bird hopped up from the ground and sat courageously on the box, until Mr. Strange Scarecrow moved in the breeze. You could almost hear him yell, “Holy *@$%! What is that thing?!” It was awesome.

I don’t know how long or how well this will work, but we will try to stay one step ahead of those flying thieves. One thing we don’t have to worry about the birds stealing is the potatoes. They grow under the dirt – yeah! Of course, there are all kinds of little bugs we have to watch out for. This growing stuff is not easy, I tell ya. But it’s fun! My trash can potatoes are growing like wild fire.

It will be time to add my next layer of dirt soon, maybe even next week. I’ll let you know! My tomatoes look like they might rally and come back. I was all ready to go replace the plant, and then this morning he started looking pretty spry. Giving up on him just doesn’t seem quite right. Man, am I a sucker for the underdog. Of course, when it comes to gardening, I am the underdog. Ok, tomato plant, we’re in this together. I’ve got your back with the water, the feeding and the weeding. It’s up to you to grow and I know you can do it. Now, get out there and fight like the confusing really-a-fruit-and-not-a-vegetable you are!

Remember those trash can potatoes I planted a week ago? They’re starting to pop up out of the dirt! Check it out:

Do you see that? They’re teeny, but mighty, and there are several of them. I’m so excited! My summer strawberries are going well too. I had more space for them than I realized, so I think I will plant a couple more. According to the zone planting guide, I still have a little time to get them in the ground.

Now for the other plants, things are going a little differently since I released them from their earth plant prison. The zucchini are starting to take off rather well. Although one of the plants is stumbling along quite a bit slower than the others, all four plants have sprouted new leaves and have these pretty little buds in the middle.

I love how vibrantly golden and green they are. My peppers are very slowly starting to respond like a petulant teenager bent on proving that although you can make him do it, you can’t make him do it quickly. I’m holding out hope. But the tomato plant… oh the tomato plant.

Poor guy looks completely tuckered out and I’m not sure he’s up to the task of bouncing back. He’s not getting any bigger and I’m not sure he will be able to support the tomatoes that might grow from those two sad little buds he sporting. I’m giving him just a little more time, and then if he doesn’t make it, I fully intend on cheating. The Amish garden store has some lovely tomato plants that are quite a bit further along and ready for purchase. I just really want to grow an actual tomato and then slice it up on a toasted BLT. I have big dreams!

When you grow up in Florida, Spring means something completely different than what you see on TV. Oh, sure, it’s the next season after Winter, you get baskets full of sugar on Easter, and you get that weeklong break from school, but that’s where the similarities end. On TV, the snow melted and the earth came alive in tones of yellow and green that were at once soft and brilliant. In Florida, it’s always green and only M&M’s come in pastels. On TV, all the birds came back and people began to go outside and enjoy themselves in earnest anticipation of long summer days and warm summer nights. In Florida, all the birds, snowbirds included, leave to go back up north and hoards of insects return. People scramble outside desperately soaking up every not-so-hot moment in anticipation of the impending brutal heat and humidity of summer that lasts throughout the day and night. Some people love the barely changing seasons and wraps-around-you-like-a-stifling-hot-wet-blanket heat of Florida. Obviously, I am not one of those!

So, when we moved to Fort Campbell, I got very excited about the idea of actual “as seen on TV” seasons. We moved in December, and while many of the locals complained about the occasional snow, I reveled in it. Heck, I rolled in it! Next came Spring. I have been in complete shock and awe over the loveliness of it. I finally understand why Spring colors are what they are. The weather warmed up and everywhere I looked fairly exploded in soft, and yet somehow brilliant, colors. I was also blessed with a particularly awesome gift. A little robin made her home on our fencepost and our family has been able to watch Spring come alive in our backyard. We watched as Robin built up her little nest layer by layer. Then we witnessed her lay four beautifully blue eggs, one by one, over the course of four days. She sat patiently through cold Spring rains and windy days until her little baby birds made their appearance.

Then, we learned how brutal Spring can be too. One little egg just won’t hatch, so we’re waiting to see what happens with that. And one baby bird didn’t make it. He ended up in a tiny little pile on the ground. It was pretty sad. However, having boys meant that they were more interested in the circle of life and how the ants immediately began feasting on the ex-bird. Now they are waiting to see what happens to the unhatched egg, and more importantly, what eats it. Yeesh! Boys!

Anyway, I took four different pictures of the egg laying process and uploaded them into Instagram to give them a cool look. I’m pretty happy with how the experiment turned out and I’m thinking about printing it out and framing it for my wall – ant ridden bird excluded!

“Do you have a limited garden space?” What a nice way to say I have a small backyard!

“Well, then, why haven’t you tried trash can potatoes?” Um, say what?

Apparently, you can grow potatoes, a lot of potatoes, in a trash can. Ok, let’s give it a shot! I looked through several sites and YouTube videos, and this is a collection of the information I found. For the most part, everybody said pretty much the same thing.

First, I needed to locate seed potatoes. Ordinary supermarket potatoes have been sprayed with something called “stop bud” to keep them from becoming potato plants before they get bought. You can find seed potatoes at some garden centers, or you can use organic potatoes that haven’t been sprayed. Now that we are at Fort Campbell, I can drive a short distance away to the Amish stores, and since I love any excuse to go to the Amish stores, that’s where I bought my potatoes. Check out these blooming beauties! Fifty cents a pop and they came with a sidecar of charming conversation with a lovely Amish grandma, as well as a fun time getting lost in the country with a good friend.

The next thing I needed was a 30 gallon garbage can and a bag of potting soil. Potatoes are particular about water; too little and they get all misshapen, too much and they quickly rot. So, I used a moisture control potting soil that had been premixed with compost. It’s slightly more expensive than regular potting soil, but given that I am such a growing stuff novice, I felt it was a good investment. I also drilled out holes in the bottom of the garbage can and about six inches up the sides to ensure good drainage.

Now, it’s time to plant! I chose two small potatoes and two large ones to conduct my potato experiment. With the large ones, you are supposed to cut the buds off with a big chunk of the potato rather than burying the whole potato, like you do with the small ones. So, I have two cut potatoes, and two whole ones. I buried them in six inches of dirt and put the can out on the patio where it will get at least 6 hours of sun a day.

Pretty impressive can o’ dirt, don’t ya think? And yes, that’s my A/C unit. Now, when the potato plants grow up six inches, I add three inches of dirt. When they grow six more, I add three more inches dirt, and so on and so forth. When the can is full, I continue to water like I have been (so that the soil is moist, but not soaked), and when the plants grow yellow and die, it’s time to harvest! Just turn the can over and pull out the potatoes. That’s supposed to happen sometime around mid to late summer. I think I can do this!

My garden has been in the ground for almost two weeks, so it’s time for an update! The strawberries are really starting to take off. The plants have doubled in size and I have lots of little green berries and white flowers promising to become yummy red fruit. Everything else, however, has been stumbling along and look pretty sad. I thought about it and tried to figure out the difference. When I planted the strawberries, I wet down the little earth pot just like directions told me to. The other plants didn’t have that on the label, so I didn’t do it. I’m thinking I should have. I probably should have either wet down the earth pots or peeled them away when I first planted them to make sure the roots could take off in the bed.

I dug up one of the pepper plants and, sure enough, the whole root system was still contained in the pot and the inside dirt was kinda dry. I wet down the earth pot, peeled it away and then replanted the pepper plant. When I dug up the other plants, same deal. We’ll see how my little experiment works, but it makes sense to me. If the pot doesn’t contain the roots enough, they wouldn’t ship well to the vendors.

Ok, so the roots are free, there weren’t any bugs munching on them, and we have rain expected tomorrow. Hopefully, my next update will be a picture of thriving plants. Grow, little plants, grow!